Blue vs the Simon Spier Agenda
by ElineAllTheFeels
Summary: You thought Simon had it rough, trying to figure out who Blue was? Just imagine how Blue feels. Set during the book, a few scenes written from Blue's perspective. (Contains Blue's identity)
1. The Tumblr

**Author's Note**

Hello there! My name's Eline, and this is my very first story on this website. I've written and posted stories online before, but that was over on Wattpad. I've been a reader on here for years, and finally worked up the courage to post some of my own work!

It's not a very long fic, but seeing as it's not a continuous story but several scenes scattered randomly throughout the book, I will be uploading this in chapters. I hope you enjoy!

 ** _Summary:_** You thought Simon had it rough, trying to figure out who Blue was? Just imagine how Blue feels. Set during the book, a few scenes written from Blue's perspective.

 ** _Disclaimer:_** I do not own any of these characters or settings. Anything you might recognize belongs to Becky Albertalli.

 ** _Warning_ :** This contains spoilers about the identity of Blue.

* * *

 **Creeksecrets Tumblr – for all your confessions and random thoughts**

 **Date:** August 27th, 7:29 PM

There is nothing quite like the feeling that you are different.

Knowing that people are like vast houses with tiny windows, and that behind your windows something resides that is so different from anybody else's.

How it feels, knowing that people can never fully look inside, yet they can look inside all the same.

What resides in my vast house is the fact that I am gay, and those windows make me feel exposed and yet so very hidden at the same time.

There are oceans between our houses, people never quite meeting, and in my opinion, the whole point of it all is to find a shore worth swimming to.

Reactions (1)

 **Date:** August 27th, 10:12 PM

THIS.

* * *

I stare at the internet page on my computer, not sure what I should do. If I'm being honest, I've been in doubt as to what to do ever since that reaction appeared on my dashboard. What did this person mean by their comment? Did they relate to the post? And if so, to what part exactly? I can't help but feel that it is wishful thinking to hope they related to the second to last line, but I'm hoping for it all the same.

'Bram! Are you coming? Dinner's ready!'

Snapped out of my state of doubt, I look at the closed door of my room before looking at my computer screen again. 'Coming!' I yell, knowing mom will hear me. I've got just a second before I have to get up to go downstairs, and in that second I take a decision that may change everything.

I hit the send button.

* * *

 **FROM:** bluegreen118

 **TO:** hourtohour notetonote

 **DATE:** Sep 2 at 6:47 PM

 **SUBJECT:** This

I cannot believe I am doing this, but after reading your comment, I sort of had to.

What did you mean with it?

My name is Blue, by the way.

-Blue


	2. Re: This

**FROM:** hourtohour notetonote

 **TO:** bluegreen118

 **DATE:** Sep 3 at 4:58 PM

 **SUBJECT:** Re: This

I cannot believe you are doing this either. Does that sound weird? I hope it doesn't. I hadn't exactly thought you would respond. I mean, I'd hoped you would, I just didn't think you'd actually do it. Am I even making sense? I'll stop rambling now.

Honestly, Blue, I have never read a post before that spoke to me the way your post did. It is almost scary how well you worded my feelings. Because, you see, I'm gay too.

I have never actually admitted that to anybody. It feels weird seeing it written on a computer screen. Yet no matter how long I look at it, that is how it is. I am gay. I am incredibly, 100% gay.

My name is Jacques. Nice to meet you, Blue.

-Jacques

* * *

I cannot believe it. I simply cannot believe it.

I refreshed my email countless times, opened and closed the message even more, yet no matter how often I do all that, the words don't change. He is gay too. Jacques is gay. And for some reason, that makes me really happy inside.

There is a part of me, though, that isn't too happy about this development. Had he not responded, I would've been able to write the comment off as if had it been a joke. Now, however, I can't ignore it anymore. Jacques is a person, a living, breathing person, and he seems to want to know me. Do I want to know him?

It could be a joke. Jacques could be a figment of someone's imagination, created to mess with me. It could very well be one of those jocks from school, getting a thrill out of messing with the gay kid.

Every part of my body that is thinking logically screams at me to ignore the email. Or maybe even better, to tell Jacques that this has all been a big mistake, that I can't talk to him any longer.

My fingers, however, aren't thinking logically.

Before I know it, I have a response typed up, ready to be sent. I hesitate, though.

Am I ready to do this?

One quick glance at Jacques' email, and the logical part of me is shut off.

Live a little, Bram.

I hit the send button.


	3. Cute Hands

There is always something humiliating about getting back test marks.

On the one hand, I don't want to come across as dumb when I get a low grade. On the other hand, getting a high grade results into me being a nerd. There is a middle ground called "good enough", yet after years of education, I still haven't found out what it is.

From the corner of my eyes, I spot Simon eyeing his test with amazement. I never feel like looking at someone's test to see how they did, but for Simon I'd love to make an exception. Only, that would probably result in him talking to me. I don't think I'd be able to respond.

The amazement turns into an annoyed frown. I quickly cast my eyes away from him, scared that it is me who placed that frown there.

'Hey.'

When I feel a tap on my shoulder, my heart just about stops beating.

I turn sideways so that I can face him. I am preparing myself for him asking me to stop looking at him when he hands me a piece of paper and says, 'Looks like this is yours.'

Caught completely off guard, I stare at him. Then stare at the paper. Then stare back at him.

Realizing that I am making a scene, I quickly reach out to take the test paper from him. 'Oh. Thanks,' is all I manage to get out. As I grab the paper, I can't help but notice my fingers. They are so long compared to his. He has cute hands.

When I look back up at him, I blush slightly. He's looking at me intently, and it's making me a bit squeamish. Obviously, he's seen the grade. What is he thinking right now? Maybe he thinks I'm a big nerd, and I've just lost all my chances I had with him.

Not that I had a chance with someone like Simon to begin with.

'No problem. I mean, I'd keep the grade if I could.'

I smile a bit, but can't really think of anything else to say, so I turn back to my desk.

Can't you at least try to not make a complete fool of yourself, Bram?

What do you think Simon thinks of you now, huh? I bet he thinks you're a complete weirdo. Good job, Bram. Good job.

This is why I only talk to Jacques about things. When writing, I don't have to look at somebody's face. When writing, he doesn't have to look at mine either. When writing, he won't realize who I am. He won't realize that I can barely talk sensibly when cute boys are around.

If only Jacques knew who I really was.


	4. Love, Blue

The moonlight shines right through the blind-less window, bathing my bedroom in bright white light. I should close the blinds, because there is no way I could possibly fall asleep with this much light in my bedroom. Then again, there is no way I could possibly sleep anyway with what is on my mind.

Jacques.

Why I thought it'd be a good idea to end my email with _Love, Blue_ is beyond me. Right after I'd hit send, I did everything I could to take the email back. Unfortunately, I couldn't.

I spent the rest of the day worrying. What if Jacques wouldn't say it back? What if I scared him off somehow?

I had been so thrown off by my dad's news of the baby, I hadn't even noticed the love until after sending the email.

A little over an hour ago, I noticed that there was a new email in my inbox from Jacques. Never before have I opened an email so quickly. Another thing I've never done before is read the goodbye first. Yet there it was. _Love, Jacques_. I wrote the grin that had appeared on my face down to the anaesthesia the dentist had given me earlier that day.

What does this mean?

I can't help but wonder if this means he loves me. Like, more than just a good friendship. More than just a flirtation. It makes me wonder if he'd want more.

It is hard for me to imagine that someone like Jacques would want that with someone like me. Yet then again, Jacques has no clue who Blue is.

The light makes figures on the ceiling, and I stare up at them. The patterns, dancing through my room, had always calmed me down when I was little. Now they just make me think of Jacques.

What if maybe, someday, he and I will be looking at those patterns together.

The thought is so wild, so weird, that I almost laugh at myself. But I don't. Because in that moment, I'd want nothing more than for Jacques to be with me right there and then. Not because I want to touch him, or even kiss him. No, I would give everything I have just to be able to look at his face as he gapes at the figures, looking at him as he tries to find a pattern, listening to his breathing evening out until he falls asleep.

I'm not sure whether that makes me a creep or not, but in that moment, the thought of Jacques falling asleep next to me is the most beautiful thing I can imagine.

With that good thought to hold on to, I close my eyes. Not even the open blinds could disturb this moment.


	5. It's Him

It's him.

As I stare at him from across the lunch table, I can't help but hear those two words over and over again in my mind. It's him. It's him. It's him.

Simon.

I don't know what I'd expected. Or better said, who. There were so many people who could have been Jacques, yet never had I dared to hope it would have been him. I'd expected it, just never believed it. Now that I know it is Simon, though, it is painstakingly obvious; Simon truly writes the way he speaks.

'We should find Leah a boyfriend, too!'

'No fucking thank you, Abby.'

Leah's voice and her exit brings me out of my musings, making me realize I'm staring at Simon. I avert my gaze, just in time to see Garrett looking at me. I know that look; he has liked Leah for at least a year.

I bite my lip, because I can't look at him. It might make me a really lousy friend, but I've got enough trouble in love of my own.

'If you like her, just ask her out.'

It's Simon who says it, and I can't help but blush. One, because it's Simon. Two, because him suggesting I like Leah is probably the weirdest thing in the whole wide world. If only he knew.

He stares intently at me some more, before casting his glance back to his food. And somehow, this makes the blush disappear in an instant.

The girls had just discussed potential boyfriends for Simon. My name hadn't come up. Now he says he thinks I like girls. Does that mean I'm not even an option in his mind?  
And if so, what does that even mean?

Suddenly, the idea that Jacques is Simon doesn't make my stomach flutter with butterflies anymore. How could I ever have thought that he could like me back, anyway? I'm clearly not on his mind the way he is on mine. Why did I expect to be? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

When the bell rings, Simon jumps up and stalks away immediately, leaving us at the lunch table. I try my hardest not to look after him, but I am weak. I look up, just in time to see his back disappear through the great doors leading into the hallway.

A hand clasps over my shoulder. 'Hey, are you alright?'

It is Garrett, looking at me with a sort of concerned glare. He must still be sad about Leah indirectly shooting him down, and how he manages to be concerned for me goes beyond me. That doesn't mean I don't appreciate it though, and I nod, faking a small smile.

Jacques is Simon.

Simon is Jacques.

Me?

I honestly don't know anymore.


	6. The Shirt

I feel so incredibly stupid for doing this. Yet here I am, the T-shirt in the bag, slowly approaching Simon's locker.

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. As a way of an apology for being quite rude, I'd bought a shirt online. It had arrived early this morning, and I'd written the first note that would go on top of the shirt. The second note had been written after a bit of hesitation, before being stuck into the shirt with some tape.

Now that I was actually standing a few feet away from the locker, however, I started to get cold feet.

'Get yourself together, Bram,' I whisper to myself. 'It's just a shirt. It's just a shirt.'

Yet how can I feel that way when I know that it is so much more than that?

He could call my phone number. He could find out who I am within seconds. He would know that Blue is in fact me.

If that is the price I have to pay for keeping him in my life, though, I'm willing to pay it.

My hand moves along the fabric one last time, as if to work up the courage. The shirt is soft, even softer than it had been when I'd opened the package. Washing machines truly are a miraculous invention.

I take one last deep breath, knowing these are my last moments of being Blue. Once Simon finds this, Blue will cease to exist. Once Simon finds this, Blue and I will become one.

Am I ready for that?

No.

Am I doing this, though?

For Simon? Of course.

Get in, place the bag, get out. As I go through the motions, I hold my breath. What if he sees me? What if he finds out before I can even reveal myself?

He doesn't come, though, and as I step away from the locker to admire my work, the bell rings. All around me, classroom doors open, and I find myself being swept away by a stream of students trying to get to their next class. Once I reach the next corridor, I take a step into it and then pause. When I peek around the corner, I find that I have a perfect view of the locker. And, much to my liking, I see Simon standing there, holding the shirt.

The look on his face is something I'll never forget.

As I let myself be swallowed back up by the endless stream of students, I can't help but grin broadly. Maybe everything will be okay.

And maybe, just maybe, Simon will like me as Blue after all.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

That was it! I hope you all liked it. This was my first fan-fiction of this book, and one of my first contemporary stories. I tend to need magic and mythical creatures, or at least blazing guns. That said, I hope you all enjoyed. Reviews would be appreciated! :D


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